The Murderer and I
by WeLcOmE2pArAdIsE
Summary: “Don’t hope,” he hissed, lowering his lips to her ear, listening to her struggle to catch her stolen breath, watching, with satisfaction, the crimson streaked across the once untainted sink. “I will never love you.”[ItaSaku][SasuSaku][slight NaruHina]
1. The Severed Grapevine

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I want to.

Pairings: ItaSaku, slight NaruHina / Suika, SasuSaku

Inspired by: "Swing Life Away:", Rise Against

Well...not much to say except I was having a severe withdrawl of angst and couldn't seem to make headway with any of my other fics. Slight manga spoilers, let me know by clicking that cute little review button. Nothing is coincidence, and neither is the placement of such a button. :) **No longer a oneshot.**

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* * *

**The Murderer and I**

_The Severed Grapevine_

_Fireflies._

_Twinkling in the silky folds of ebony that effectively shrouded all, even the moon on this quiet night. Tiny glimmers in the unknown, lighting a wanderer's way with good intentions, whether the ones that stumbled and prowled in the darkness deserved it or not. I shiver. Why could some higher being not help me as they watched me struggle and fail and lose my life, the will inside me pouring onto the ground as if emptying a trough full of rainwater; why? A waste of space and an attraction to the unwanted, the unneeded._

_Was that all I was...standing water?_

_Fireflies–_

_Are all I have left to look at as I let him go. Breezes rustling and whistling through thin, late–autumn foliage and singing a desperate song, the cry of a wounded animal, for everyone and anyone to hear. I never realized I possessed so many beautiful memories; they play, the endless movie reel in front of my eyes, pasted and forever to stay as I fall apart. As he _

_takes–_

_me–_

_apart. _

_His motives, unclear, his enjoyment, almost certain. Playing with my emotions and my body like a myriad of scattered tinkertoys, strewn across a carpet and displayed in such vibrant colors. Pieces of every shape and size, with some to touch and finger and some to admire–_

_And some to __**break**_

_I don't make a sound, for he stole my voice quite a long time ago through a staccato warning and a ravaging tongue. With calloused hands that twitch with the eagerness of the kill, the grip of a man whom has never let his prey escape for any reason, and while retreating from a few choice brawls, once he has something in his clutches..._

_If I ever live to tell this tale, I'll tell them to just do what I did._

_Stare. Stare at the fireflies and cloud your mind and just...don't struggle..._

_He lifted me easily as a wet rag doll, limp and pathetic, and tossed me flat on my back in the dust, knocking the wind out of me. I choked and clutched at my throat, plastered with long, pink locks soaked in crimson, like tape to a sweater. Coppery scents made my head reel with nausea as I let the numbing sensation spread through every fiber, saturate every tissue with the obliteration of the pain. So relieving. I'm welcoming the unconsciousness that seeps into my mind, threatening to shut the rest of my body down and stop the mental beating that I can't seem to stop reliving. For so many hours, seventy-two, endless fucking hours he played my mind and my body like a sturdy child's toy, meant to be tossed around outside and bounced on the ground and stepped on and kicked and punched–_

_And that's not what I am. He said it too. I'm something pretty and innocent, meant to sit primly on a shelf and not speak, a porcelain doll with painted rosy cheeks and only, forever and always, a curiosity and a plaything. Not a person. _

_I'm too weak to be considered anything but._

_Where is the concussion and exhaustion when I need it?_

_Damn the fireflies...they sparkle and seem to wink down at me, mocking me, and that's when I begin to lose it, that's when I am beyond caring._

"_Let...me be..."_

_Fingernails, stained black and cut to the quick drag down my bloody, flushed face and I remember, I can feel the stimulation affecting my skin just like before..._

_Except it's just my mind illustrating what he already had done. I can't feel it anyway, I'm numb. _

"_Let us see if you live to tell this tale," he purred softly, watching me through narrowed eyes. Such pale skin, flushed with physical excitement as his high collar stroked his face teasingly in the breeze that I could not feel. It was unbuttoned...and so were other things._

_Reality and fantasy and genjutsu and delirium all smash into one another, as if hurling something large and made of glass upon a concrete floor. And on impact they radiate out, pieces skittering underneath furniture and feet and no one will ever find them all, even when they crawl on knees and look between small spaces, no. There is always one that will be missing, forever condemned, which will leave me forever incomplete._

_I can't find this piece of me, I can't take it back._

_I can't turn back time._

_And every time I sleep I remember his weight against mine, satisfying a twisted vision that was never mine. While I was unconscious for much of the brutality and assault, he made sure to keep me awake for the very worst parts, so I could never forget. Eternally etched in the cerebellum, to pull out and cringe over like less than welcoming photo albums. _

_I remember the moon, hovering like a phantasmal spirit above the dust, so stained with blood and saliva and other...unpleasant things._

_I remember not being able to speak, which the burning acid lodged in my throat, lips stained with blood._

_I remember the frightening rhythm that accompanied the pain. Sadly, I had nothing to hold onto, for I could never touch the repulsive man. Limp beneath him, I'd cried. The beat went on, clashing with my adrenaline–induced heart that raced out of control, off a track that had never had a clear finish line. _

_I remember hearing my whimpers. My gasps. His groans. Pain. Gasp. Groan. Pain. Gasp. Groan._

_It just never–_

_fucking–_

_stopped._

_I remembered wondering if anyone would be able to help me._

_I remembered him saying I was beautiful._

_I told him to burn in hell._

_I paid for that, in some way, but by then I__** didn't**__ remember._

_I remember gazing up at the trees forming a circle around the monumental clearing, foliage rustling softly as my eyes saw only red, that pain that just couldn't be real. Running shaking fingertips over the others, to have something to call my own, because certainly, it was too late for some things._

_Fireflies._

_Flitted within the tiniest branches and became the definition of luminescence, and were the only things I could focus on. _

'_Tiny sparks of hope...' she had said. At that moment in time, I had admired her for such insight. _

_She was really,_

_fucking,_

_stupid._

_She had no idea._

_In the light they provided, I saw the vines on the thick tree trunks, so resolutely burnt and slashed by our struggle, flecked with crimson like the spots on a robin's egg. Convoluted plant life that bore newfound life and hoped through anything._

_Even nature was a blinded fool._

_Curse all of those fools:_

_Fireflies._

* * *

Four months later, not one person understood.

He had rushed home in the dark, her battered and bruised body in his shaking arms, sending other members of the search squad ahead as he flew through the foliage. Panicking the entire way. Rushing home so quickly only to drop her to the ground, his own body shaking as his knees gave to lower him in a chair, leaving Tsunade to shout the orders as he went into his own nervous breakdown.

How in the world did the 'sexual abuse' part of it slip through the cracks?

Indefinitely traumatized, and nobody could comprehend. Not being able to touch people, not even to shake a hand. Screaming, raging nightmares that left her scratching at her barely healed skin, falling apart for seemingly 'no reason'.

Such a dramatic weight loss, no respect or love for nature and the little things.

Naive little Naruto. He'd never be able to imagine Sakura–chan that way.

None of them believed her. As if her injuries were all in her mind.

From listening to Tsunade speaking to the head medics, Sakura's mind _was _the injury.

She could feel his hands on her every single day.

So why did it come as such a shock when the blonde kyuubi vessel cheerfully pushed open her door and said she should wake up, their mission to go find their former teammate was commencing _right now_, and that he expected her up and about by now. Surely she wanted to find Sasuke–kun now?

It took him a few minutes to realize why her sheets were rumpled, tattered and on the floor, and why her window was shattered, glass littering her spotless floor. Spotless aside, of course, from the glittering, viscid, fresh blood spattered across it as if someone had overturned a full paint bucket. But the handprints on the wall, fresh and dripping down the pale pink walls and creating an ironically fitting combination of colors...those were too real.

--

"I didn't touch a thing," Naruto protested, voice shaking as he clutched the armrests, tan countenance pale ashe faced the interrogators, all of whom towered with obvious superiority. Despite the lenience shown for the playful orphan, this was too serious.

--

"These fingerprints are hers," Ino commented, pointing a shaking finger at the gleaming prints, so bright against the shade of the wall.

--

People crowded, human nature's sin of curiosity in full swing as they gasped and swooned and let rumors fly from imaginative lips to craving ears. Though this sin wasn't killing the unnoticed cat that purred around legs and was let closer to the action. Slitted pupils took in information from sight and from the words spoken around him. She was intelligent. Listen to the superiors, the important people, the detectives who know what they are talking about.

Satisfied. A full report for his boss, whom would be soon having conniptions galore and may just strangle his newly–formed team.

And branches of the grapevine spread...

* * *

To have a game of chess, cards, or something of a similar sort interrupted is fairly irking.

When you are sleeping after a long, difficult morning of slaughtering, it is most likely irritating beyond believe. Nevertheless, the exhausted Uchiha opened his onyx eye just a slit to view his visitor, and he expected a lowly fodder ninja, easy to kill from a lengthy distance. A mere annoyance.

Kisame removed his sandaled feet from the square, purple footstool and let them hit the floor in mild surprise at the visitor that dared have the nerve to quite literally kick down their door. Never mind the fact that Itachi had not sensed the intruder nor killed them the moment they had passed the threshold. Candlelight flickered and cast shadows and illuminated her glowing face in the accustomed darkness.

Her arms were folded across her chest, abnormally thin frame grotesque in the cruel shadows. He didn't remember her being so thin.

"Who is with you?" Itachi inquired monotonously, staring at her over his high collar.

"So you remember me?" she asked quietly, voice raspy and as flat as his own.

He held her eyes, like the frightening sensation of paralysis.

"There is...no one with me."

Rigid. _It can't be._

"I've come to tell you that–well, no, I've come to just tell you some things."

**CLINK**. Kisame's sword hit the black tiles and he shifted as if was going to stand. "Listen, girl–"

"Quiet."

The expression on Kisame's face was very ugly indeed, not exactly tickled pink at the realization that his partner was holding this girl's words on a pedestal above his.

"You made a really stupid mistake, Uchiha Itachi," she spat, letting her folded, bony arms cross her lower stomach, hiding the barely there bump caused from her unnatural thinness. Tsunade had been warning her about her weight loss, but never thought to investigate the real reasons. "And you have no way out."

"Don't set conditions with _me_, girl," Itachi replied harshly, the tiny muscles of his eyes contracting to reveal the piercing Mangekyo Sharingan. "You should remember well..."

"I dare you," she hissed, biting her lip. "Do whatever the hell you please."

Kisame rose to his full, towering height and glared at her through fish–like slits, glancing at Itachi every so often to watch his reaction.

"Kisame...why so touchy?"

"She's an annoyance."

Itachi seemed mildly surprised as he locked eyes on his partner, daring him to continue his dramatic interference. "You sound like me. Touching. Sit."

"I'm here to inform you of my decision. I am coming with you, as a third member of your partnership and as a member of the Akatsuki," she spoke slowly and clearly, and not one word held humorous content.

Itachi slowly let his fingers drag off the coveted, stitched material that covered the armrest of his chair and stood silently, letting his arms retreat into the long sleeves of his black and crimson robe. The young girl stood her ground.

"I could _kill_ you."

She swallowed. "I know that."

Kisame interjected: "I could stain this floor with every drop of blood you–"

"Unless you want to take two lives, I suggest you put that down, Kisame," she ordered gently, though her eyes flashed all the same.

The blue–skinned shinobi was utterly confused, yet let his sword fall to the tile, curiosity welling inside of him.

"And unless you want every ANBU and high–level shinobi on your back, perhaps a Sannin, and the kyuubi vessel himself, you'll quell your murderous intent," she told Itachi.

Pause.

"What if I kill you now?"

"Do you really want to take two lives?"

"And if I don't agree to your demands?"

"You didn't answer the question, Uchiha."

"Answer me."

"Then I'll squeal everything I know like a fucking pig. You can _count_ on that."

Silence.

"And I don't think your younger brother needs another excuse to hate you, does he?"

Itachi twitched slightly. "So that is the reason...you want to find him, and you'll use me to do that."

The woman's harsh little laugh, so unbecoming to her looks and her once–possessed grace, echoed coldly in the room, pressing upon all sides. "I could care less about Uchiha Sasuke." No suffix. "I'm only doing this for...well...it's not his fault."

"You're sure it's a–"

"You're speaking to a medic-nin poised on surpassing her Sannin tutor."

That kept the two male shinobi silent as mice.

"So. It's settled."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and began to cross the ebony tiles to the door, her boots tapping cautiously in the cavern.

"Wait a damn minute."

The woman turned and stared over her shoulder curiously as Kisame let his bandaged sword slid to the title with a deafening 'clunk'. He was not sure whether to ask 'who' or 'what' or perhaps 'why', and certainly Itachi, whom had spoken more words than expected in the past five minutes in comparison to five days, wasn't going to give an answer.

"I'd appreciate it if when we aren't on the move, I might have a bed."

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Kisame demanded.

She turned her slow look upon him, as if immobilizing prey; a lioness glittering in the shadows.

"His child."

* * *


	2. Buried, Belated, Broken

Opening Lyrics: "Breathing Slowly" ... Crossfade.

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* * *

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**Chapter 1: Buried, Belated, Broken.**

_So who was I to hurt you?_

_To desert you?_

_When you needed me there?_

_So now that you've learned to hate me..._

_You're finally set free._

_I fall to my knees..._

_--_

"Sasuke–kun!"

A long drought of liquid, consumed only for the satisfying warmth that flooded his frigid veins, almost effective in drowning out her simpering words.

"Sasuke–kun, are you _listening _to me?"

"I doubt it."

As much as he wished to dwell in long–ago memories, floating serenely in an unconscious so pleasing it was intoxicating, reality was figuratively slapping him across the face. While his muscles were relaxed and nestled comfortably under his thick skin, those around him only saw his tense demeanor.

"Sasuke–kun," she whined again, leaning across the square table slowly and peering at him. He did not see her, only the beautifully carved wood, the crevasses and initials carved here and there, patterns in a myriad of brown shades.

"Sasuke–"

"Do you come with a muzzle, woman?" Suigetsu snapped abruptly, slamming down his glass and brushing his uneven locks from his face. Teeth bared in a half–joking grin, he let his head fall onto his hand and shook his head at her. "He's not listening. Let the man think."

Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, the magenta–haired woman readjusted her glasses routinely and let a pout toy on her lips. "He's _always _thinking."

"Thinking of the best way to shut you up," Suigetsu retorted playfully, dodging her hand as she made to pass it across his face. Missing by inches and thoroughly infuriated at her failure to punish him, she shoved her glass at him and it tipped, light brown liquid seeping in a small puddle on the wood.

Each member of the newly formed team occupied a corner of the square table. In this small tavern in the middle of nowhere, they existed as much as the people sitting at the table next to them, or behind them...they simply didn't. No questions, no inquiries. Get a drink, sit, discuss, leave on a merry note with a tip and that is that.

Their leader remained silent and attempted to enjoy his drink, though this was proving to be a hassle considering two of them could not sit still or try to engage him in conversation for more than three seconds. Like flittering fans, worshiping the ground beneath his feet as if it were something special. Shadowed eyes still fixated on the wood patterns, he let them go at it and fell into his own comfortable silence alongside Juugo, whom was quiet as well.

**THWACK!**

"Sonofabitch," Suigetsu muttered fluently, baring his teeth with the corners of his lips twitching as if mocking her with a smile. He never seemed to be truly angry with her. Grimacing at his throbbing shin, he dipped his fingers in his drink, swirled them around, and flicked the liquid at her flashing spectacles. "Hah, you're blind."

Cursing under her breath, she swept her sleeve across the glasses and bared her teeth back at him, eyes narrowed viciously at the now laughing shinobi.

"So fucking imma_ture_," she spat, slamming her toes, clad in heavy boots, against his shin once more.

The table jerked and Juugo looked up from his drink and scowled. "Knock it off."

"The gentle giant speaks," Suigetsu remarked coyly.

Sasuke let out an irked sigh, ripped from his brooding muse, and drained the last of his liquor. Pushing the glass away in indication, he shook his head slightly to clear his vision.

**THWACK!**

"Ow."

**THWACK!**

"Okay, you can st–"

**THWACK!**

"_You_," Sasuke snapped, obviously annoyed by her childish behavior; bringing her feet together, she sat up straighter and attempted a smirk. It faltered beneath his disapproving gaze. A deep scowl came upon her face, perhaps in justification.

"He started it," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and attempting to catch Sasuke's eye before the exhausted Uchiha let his head rest on his forearms, listening to the monotonous drone of many a conversation. All uneventful and comprised of small talk. If it had been _his_ way, they would still be traveling through a pitch–black forest in the middle of god knows where, going through the painfully routine arguments. Suigetsu was thirsty. Karin would bitch at him. Juugo would remain thoughtful and silent. Sasuke would remain a brooding icon for every twelve year old girl that uttered his name.

Now a missing–nin, the upswing in his popularity with the younger crowd was at a pinnacle that always made him wonder, vaguely, just how many goddamn females the world held.

Muscles tightened involuntarily beneath the traveling cloak loosely draped over his shoulders; Juugo gave his leader a swift look of concern that Sasuke shrugged off and the former did not question. They never did.

A voice cut swiftly through the chatter from the table to the right. Many things did not interest Sasuke, meaningless babble about one dead wife or just how shit-faced her husband was last night or how sweet little Takashi fell in the well. Constant, varying states of fatigue did not suit him, but this, these familiar words that caused pangs of emotion other than pain and exhaustion, he couldn't deny it.

Regret.

"_You've always hated me."_

Regret.

"_I'd do anything for you!"_

He'll always regret.

"_I love you!"_

"...caused a damn uproar in Konoha, at least thass wha' I heard."

Ripples of disbelief, of dissent traveled through the group clustered around the table to hear this tale. Skepticism was apparent in many faces; nonetheless, the sound of scraping chairs attracted even more attention and now, as another pointless squabble broke out between his teammates again, he listened. Still. Stealthy.

Undoubtedly interested.

"Don' believe ya," a man grunted, beneath a greased, gray mustache. "They don' let foreigners _leenger,_" he muttered, pausing to take a drought of liquor as his words went around the table, a game of telephone.

"They don', not affer tha' attack by them...what d'ya call 'ems–"

"Akatsuki," another boomed, oblivious to the overbearing volume of his besotted voice. "Damn foreigners."

Sasuke suppressed a snort for their ignorance. Plain, simple ignorance.

The first man seemed affronted at having the spotlight refocused and set his glass down loudly. Heads swivelled to watch him as a smirk graced his somewhat handsome features, and while he ran his gloved hand continually through an unkempt brunette mane, the ears of every villager and shinobi sharpened.

As did Sasuke's.

"I'm up there fer a good time, ya know? I wont _leengering_," he sneered in blatant mockery. "So I hassa bi' much and I stop in 'nother tavern and you know wha' I hear? I hear..."

Pausing for dramatic effect, he drained his glass and was about to demand more, but the attractive woman was already at his side. With a curious look upon her pretty features, she bent low and put her face close to his, skillfully refilling his drink as she whispered, "What'd you hear?"

Sasuke let out a sigh of dissent, still ignoring the embarrassing antics at his own table. _Get to the point already. _Staring at the wood, he felt his attention ebbing away.

"The damned legendary sucker 'erhself!"

Grand laughs echoed all around as they relived fond memories of her gambling and alcoholism, her stints of unbecoming habits known far and wide. Obviously it hadn't died down even after officially filling her position as Hokage.

"Yep, she was 'ere, and she weren't drinkin' none, no, just havin' a secret 'lil meetin' right there with 'er _posse,_" he drawled, earning unwarranted laughs from the crowd around the table, which was basically the entire bar at his point. Curious minds forced bodies to twist around the backs of chairs just hoping for a bit of gossip to spread around that night. Thankfully, the squabbling died down at Sasuke's table and Juugo and Suigetsu listened intently, seemingly amused.

"Konoha...wasn't that–"

Sasuke rose his head slowly, raising an eyebrow. Juugo's words broke off abruptly. Suigetsu eyed the curvaceous woman now, whom was desperate for a one night stand and a story. Latched onto the brunette's arm so tightly and simpering now at his words, making Suigetsu bare his teeth. "Heh. Cutie."

Snarl. Seethe. Karin's voice was the whip of a leather belt almost as painful as her backhand slaps. "Shut up."

"So nashurally," the man continued, leaning back in his chair and clearly enjoying his captured audience. "I'm a listenin' in tha' bar an' she says she been sendin' out ANBU squads left n' right. Shinobi kidnapped righ' unner her nose, an' they think it was a shinobi from the Akatsuki, no less!"

Juugo's face, intimidating in appearance, seemed sympathetic and slightly confused as he looked at Sasuke again, whom was staring, unblinking, at the far wall of the tavern as Suigetsu ripped his attention from the woman. Currently stroking the brunette's nose with a long, suggestive finger and trying to find a covert opportunity to casually sit in his lap.

Now he fixed his sharp eyes on his leader and tilted his head quirkily, also curious.

And Sasuke seemed to be his normal, apathetic self.

Except for the fist on the table. Those tightened white knuckles.

Sight narrow of the eyes.

Memories.

"_That's all you've got to say?"_

"_Hn."_

"_Don't you care, at all?" _

"_I can't afford to care. Not for you. And not for her."_

"_...Sasuke..."_

"_Tell her the last part...you'll regret it."_

He could only delve so far into memories like those. She remained faceless and nameless to all inquiries, nonexistent and never mentioned.

_Stay away from me._

"_I can't stand to watch you suffer this way!"_

"They be thinkin'...it was Uchiha Itachi."

Three heads swivelled to watch his reaction. Defined jaw line and lines of cold fury, etched in frightening stone twisted his handsome features into an expression so grotesque and angry. Eyes shadowed, narrowed to glittering onyx slits that watched his memories play, the movie created for him. Consisting of the worst.

Tense. Don't breathe.

"An' there was blood _everywhere,_"the man stated proudly, grinning as the people shuddered in collective revulsion. "Han' prints, curtains ripped n' lotsa evidence of a struggle. Not 'nough to be dead, though. They're sure she's alive. She fought hard, they were sayin'." Finishing solemnly as took another drought and welcomed the barmaid onto his lap, as though he were there to see the dreadful incident.

"It was a woman, then?"

"Why'd they leave her alive?"

Putting up a hand for silence, the brunette held the crowd in shock and awe.

"Ransom, I 'spose. They wan' somethin' outta that kidnappin'. 'Twas a girl, it was."

Suigetsu quirked an eyebrow and continued to watch his leader closely, while Karin mimicked him. "Sasuke–kun?" Her voice irked him.

"_Sasuke–kun, I need your help with this–"_

"_Shh, don't be rude, Sasuke–kun!"_

"_Eat this, please, Sasuke–kun!"_

Juugo silently pressed a full glass into Sasuke's hand, watching him closely. "Karin, don't."

Jerking her head toward him, she sneered in response and only turned her nose up at Suigetsu.

The Uchiha twitched. Quite noticeably. It didn't happen often.

Whatever was going on, it was really fucking bothering him, and his team was about to witness his temper firsthand.

They had no idea.

"Sweet Jesus, a girl? Young girl?"

Surging guilt. The man had no shame, and Sasuke always took it on as his personal burden.

This was more personal than he'd ever think.

"A shinobi. Barely a day over sixteen." Sighs of false heartache sounded in the tavern.

Tiny, responsive hairs that stood straight on the back of his neck as the twitch continued, willing to remain in the calm before the inevitable storm that he was bound to bring. That glint, that glint of crimson flashed vividly for the world to see as his chest jerked abruptly, struck with guilt, because–

–_It was her fucking birthday._

He'd remembered. He'd tried so hard not to.

"_Sasuke–teme, did you even get anything for Sakura–chan for her birthday? She's only got one year you know, before she's sixteen!"_

"_What's the difference?"_

"_It means a lot to her, though, idiot! You'd better be nice to her next year or I'll kick your ass up and down the street."_

"_Which I doubt you could do."_

"What was her name?" a woman asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer to her husband. People moved as one, curiosity such a natural, involuntary sinthat enthralled their minds and forced their morals into submission as they dared listen.

A swishing sound was heard as Sasuke's traveling cloak slid from his squared, tensed shoulders and folded upon itself as it hit the dusty floor.

The tightening, asphyxiating grip upon his chest, his breath held. Heartbeat hovering on one frantic note.

The glass, his powerful, calloused fingers clinging to the cold lifeline, cracks snaking onto the surface as his knuckles grew white. Skin pulled over them abnormally tight.

He'd rather have been shot in the chest than listen to her name fall from that gossip's lips.

He'd never have expected her name.

_Her_ name.

"Tha' apprentice o' hers...Haruno Sakura."

* * *

"Leaving already?"

Hinata jumped, startled, and finished sliding her arms through the straps of her backpack before turning to face her superior.

"Y–yes, Hokage–sama," she stammered, quickly inclining her body into a respectful bow.

With a somber gaze, Tsunade averted her eyes from the photographs on her desk. "Please tell Naruto–"

"Tell me what, baa–chan?"

Hinata looked at the blonde sadly over her shoulder and Tsunade nodded to her. White eyes cast to the floor, the girl gently steered Naruto over the threshold and shut the door behind her, tears already forming in her eyes.

"Tsunade–sama says that...this mission is for Sakura, not for Sasuke," she whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and grab his coat. To cling. She was stronger than that. "And that...even if Sasuke does show up, which he very well may...to do what was best for–"

"Sakura–chan and the baby. I know," Naruto interrupted quietly, cerulean eyes also averted from her kind face. Hinata knew how difficult this had been, the thorough interrogations and the questions of every tiny detail he had been willing to give to help find her. That one night, bringing her home in the dark bruised, beaten, broken.

Failure. A feeling he seemed to know all too well, despite the fact he tried so hard to never let himself be associated with it again. He had failed her, and he had failed Sasuke as well. He could imagine the fury on his face should he ever realize what was happening, should he ever return to find Sakura...

_It was his fault, damn it, his fault! I'm not the one who left. _

"_Protect her when I can't, Naruto."_

"Hinata," he whispered, screwing up his face in a vain effort to suppress his furious tears.

Don't break down.

"Hinata," he repeated, taking the front of her coat and wrapping his fingers in the material, beginning to shake. "Tell me...was this all my fault?"

The girl gently wrapped her arms around his body, wracking with sobs he did not dare to let loose. Though he could never play his tough act around her for too long. Turning her head against his chest, she embraced him tightly.

She would never lie.

And she said nothing.

* * *

_Glass._

_Embed yourself in the skin without ceremony, now. Bring forth blood for the man that cannot feel._

* * *

Karin's eyes widened, darting from the shards through Sasuke's hand, viciously tearing his skin apart and letting crimson spill across the patterned wood; to his eyes, blood–red. In one swift movement he shoved his chair back and turned on his heel, looming ominously over the brunette–haired man whom was clearly taken aback. Twisting around to face Sasuke, the stranger asked:

"Can I help ya?"

In a manner of seconds:

The barmaid hit the floor as Sasuke yanked the man from his comfortable chair and held him by the throat, off the ground. Steadily turning blue, feet struggling to scrape the dusty floor, people frozen in shock and horror as Suigetsu and Juugo jumped to their feet but, wisely, did not intervene.

"Don't–ever–talk–about–"

He broke off abruptly, trying desperately to quell his anger and fight back all those memories, to run away from the horrible truth. It just _couldn't_ be happening, it _couldn't _be real. That man was fucking _lying_.

Dropping him to the floor, he let the body crumple before turning the man over onto his back with his boot. Eyes tearing from the lack of oxygen stared up at him.

"Tell me everything you know," Sasuke demanded in a hiss.

"What's it to ya?" The idiot didn't realize how dangerous it was to bargain time or answers with the Uchiha.

**SNAP.**

Another collective shudder; Sasuke's boot stomped on the man's ribs, forcing his body to jerk up in response, helping the fractures along.

"Tell me."

"Which part?"

"Tell me or I'll force you."

"If you're a thinkin' I'm afraid ta die guess what?" the man asked, glaring up at Sasuke with beady eyes, every passing second testing his nonexistent patience. Defiance never gets a man anywhere in the face of this. "I ain't."

"You'll wish you were dead when I'm done with you," Sasuke breathed, slamming the heel of his boot into the man's ribs once more, watching apathetically as he writhed beneath his weight, struggling not to cough up the blood pooling in his jaw.

The Uchiha removed his foot carefully, letting the man's twisting and jerking subside, then glared down at him from cruel, red slits. "Look at me."

And stupidly, the man gazed right up at him.

–"_Yes, Naruto was the one to bring her home that night..."–_

–"_He left her in the woods, bruised, bloody...she would have died if we hadn't–"_

–"_Handprints all over her walls–"_

Sasuke's lip twitched as the little color he possessed drained from his face in one startling instant. He probed deeper, reliving the conversation that the man had heard as he enjoyed his drink in Konoha and his victim was shaking again, uncontrollable convulsions as blood trailed from his mouth, eyes wide and already glassy. Karin was frozen in horror, while his other two teammates remained thin–lipped and resolutely silent.

–"_There were obvious signs of abuse–"_

–"_And now she's been taken, most likely by him. He came back for her...god, we should realized!"–_

–"_Itachi came back for her...and he succeeded."–_

"AAUUUGGH!"

The man's piercing scream jerked Sasuke from the genjutsu. He'd had enough, anyway.

He was shaking himself as the words echoed in his own mind, over and over and tumbling and they were there. Forever sounding to torture him ruthlessly. Stomach churning, he stepped gingerly over the man's writhing body and turned to face the exit, watching the twisting form at his feet with an emotionless expression.

**KICK.**

**KICK.**

**KICK.**

Sasuke kicked the body ruthlessly in the stomach and chest; it rolled over and over until it came to the door, and the dark–haired shinobi did not hesitate to punt him, forcibly, over the threshold and into the street, ignoring the trail of blood it left behind.

It was like a show. Sick entertainment, antics. Under the white moon, a surreal goddess that dared to hover above the scene, he broke. Luminescence left him with an unearthly glow to his pallid skin, tracing the defined lines of his face, accenting the circles under his eyes and clashing with the glow of the Sharingan.

Kicking the body, again, again.

_You know I always was the strong one,_

_But now I've come undone..._

_Sweet release..._

Watching the blood spill because it was tangible, it was real, glutinous and glittering and

–it–

–didn't–

–lie.

"Okay, I think that's enough," Suigetsu said, with a jovial air. He nodded to Juugo and they each took one of Sasuke's arms and steered him away as the crowd flocked to the body like hens eager to peck. The whispers were traveling through the little village as some ran to doors of cousins and neighbors and relayed the incident with an excited, breathless demeanor.

Karin followed loyally behind them, glancing back at the people, then rushed forward to Juugo's side.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him?" Suigetsu suggested coyly, but Juugo shook his large head slowly, clearly warning them against it.

Sasuke's stilted breathing finally began to calm and he remained tense and silent, jerking his limbs away from his teammates and stalking ahead. Karin followed.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, reaching for his sleeve; he sped up.

Grabbing his forearm, she pursed her lips in annoyance. "Sasuke–kun!"

**SCHING.**

Karin's glasses slipped from her nose and clattered to the dust; two blades crashed against each other, creating a haunting, dangerous melody in the night air.

Suigetsu was grinning, though, as held his sword against Sasuke's kusanagi. The latter was suppressing murderous intent. "Careful. She's stupid, she doesn't know any better."

The magenta–haired girl scooped her glasses from the ground and quickly arranged them on her face, fiddling with them nervously. His actions had truly shocked her, and she stepped back as both shinobi sheathed their weapons. Sasuke turned on his heel and continued to walk at an unnerving pace, as though trying to run away.

Oh, he was.

"I'm stupid?" Karin spat, forming the syllables with uncanny precision at Suigetsu.

"'Kay, when the mere mention of his brother and a girl make him mindfuck someone, he's obviously not in a good mood."

Juugo shushed them and stole a glance at the Uchiha, but he was still walking at a furious pace and not aware of his surroundings in the slightest. Karin blanched.

"A girl?"

"Is Sakura a boy's name?" Suigetsu asked, tilting his head, mocking her once again.

Karin cursed under her breath and folded her arms, eyeing the back of Sasuke's head with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Look," Juugo murmured, jerking his head at Sasuke, who had stopped walking abruptly.

--

_Rise, hand, and let me take a good look at you. Yes. I touched your forehead with this, among other things. I wouldn't regret a minute of it. Because you were so innocent, and I wanted it, I needed it, because mine was so far gone._

_--_

Sasuke took off in one powerful leap, booted feet slamming against a thick tree branch and leaving his teammates in the dark. Of course, they followed, but they had no idea of the things they would discover.

The world would know...and they would know...

The sad tale of Team Seven.

Of his best friend.

Of the girl he'd been afraid to claim. And how he'd been too late.

* * *


	3. Shattered Porcelain

I'm literally leaving for vacation in three hours, so I wanted to put this up. Sorry it's short, but I LOVE YOU ALL and I will be back in a week -ish. Please read and review.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Shattered Porcelain**

"Get him inside _this instant_!"

"Karin, if he wants to be left alone, then _respect_ him and _let him be_," Juugo snapped, glaring at her with passionate annoyance.

"Ah, let her go bother him. Next time his aim will be true and we'll have a souvenir–"

"Are you implying that Sasuke–kun would even _dream_ of hurting me?"

The men rose their eyebrows in unison; evident amusement. Karin rolled her eyes and adjusted her black glasses, turning away from them with a stomp and folding her arms.

"You'd better get some sleep, Sasuke–kun!" she called to the window, wide open, curtains dancing on a warm, end–of–summer breeze that filled the room with a distinct calming aroma. Unfortunately, it did not affect Sasuke; obsidian eyes glittering in the darkness, he glared at her out of the corner of his eye from the branch on which he sat, perched like a restless predator.

"Tch, you're not his mother," Suigetsu chastised. Tossing his head and adopting a feminine tone with a familiar expression, he whined, "Eat your vegetables, Sasuke–kun, get to bed at a decent time, Sasuke–kun, ravage me in my _wet dreams_, Sasuke–"

Juugo stepped nimbly aside as a flurry of kunai whistled through the window and pinned Suigetsu and Karin to the wall behind them. Karin seemed overcome by shock while Suigetsu erupted into untoward gales of laughter, doubled nearly to the ground as his companion grimaced, removing the knives from the drywall one by one. When finished, she quite predictably, kicked him in the ribs.

"You...bastard," she hissed, hands resting on her hips as she bent her tall frame over him and snarled. "Look what you did, you pissed him off!"

Juugo glanced at the arguing couple and sighed heavily, shoving his hands into his pockets as he crossed the room and quietly climbed into the windowsill. Folding his arms, he rose his head to gaze silently up at the slightly swaying branches where his leader sat, stiff and lost in thought. So calm and collected on the outside.

His insides were a ranting, raving, guilt–ridden mess, and he was so well at disguising it that no one would notice. Just as he liked it.

"Sasuke."

Without blinking, the Uchiha turned his head slightly and gazed down at Juugo, whom watched him carefully through strangely piteous eyes. Other than this minimal gesture, Sasuke did not acknowledge him further.

"Sorry," Juugo began, the single word coming out blunt, loud, and awkward in the stillness of the night. An unusual, unwarranted, and unexpected gesture, to apologize the things that, even if they _were _the problem, could not be fixed. "About them," he elaborated, jerking his head towards the room where loud screeches could still be heard, along with occasional thumps of overturned furniture.

"Used to it." Sasuke's reply was abrupt and clipped in syllables and tone. It was true; it was all too familiar.

"_NARUTO!" Sakura screeched, bringing back her well-used fist to shove his blonde head into the table. "That's no way to act around a girl that actually__** likes**__ you! USE YOUR HEAD!" _

_Naruto turned his head to the side, his pathetic retaliation muffled into the wood. "I know, Sakura–chan, I wasn't expecting her to ask me, but I want to go with her, of course I do!" _

"_Then you'd better make it up to her, damn it," Sakura retorted forcefully, releasing her frighteningly powerful grasp and shaking her head at him, exasperated. "Do something nice for her; you're not completely stupid, I hope?" _

"_Of course not!" Naruto protested, throwing up his arms in an admittedly helpless gesture. "But I need to know what she likes–"_

"_If you continue to act like a spaz, Naruto, she may have second thoughts."_

_Sakura stifled a giggle at the blonde's misfortune and socked Sasuke gently in the arm, smiling almost wistfully. She reprimanded the dark–haired man with a tender tone, "Sasuke–kun...now now...obviously, she's attracted to that." _

_Sasuke snorted derisively in reply, raising an eyebrow as if to say "And you? You find that tolerable?"_

_Answering his silent question, she said quietly, "Tolerable, but not my forte."_

"I don't mean to be nosy," Juugo began, in a voice barely above a loud whisper; Sasuke cut him off.

"Don't."

Taken aback, his companion fell silent.

For only a moment.

"I've never seen you act that way."

The Uchiha stiffened, but did not choose to reply.

"It worries me–"

"It is not your job to do so," Sasuke interrupted coldly.

"I presume it was someone you knew...when you were younger?"

Tense. Inhale. Crimson eyes glinted in the thick darkness, catching, for a fleeting moment the lamplight from inside. Juugo recoiled slightly; he knew the power all too well, but set his jaw and continued.

"Former team, right? I've heard of Uzumaki Naruto."

"Congratulations," Sasuke spat, words weighted with sarcasm.

"There was a girl."

"Shut up."

"You said her name."

Head whipping around, those bloody eyes sent waves of paralysis through the taller man, crouched double in the windowsill. With a shaking hand he clutched the whitewashed sill and steadied himself as the sensation subsided, the furious stare lingering obstinately.

"Once," Juugo dared to say under his breath. "You didn't think we'd heard."

He was a statue. Necessary breaths refusing to commence, adrenaline pounding through veins in every limb and still he did not move, did not so much as twitch. The single syllable cut through the air as easily as his kusanagi, an acute whistle of movement and of tone.

It cracked.

It broke.

It was a giveaway.

"Go."

--

_Break me please, break me please._

_You have her, (don't break her), _

_You'll hurt her (don't harm her),_

_Take mine, this tainted soul,_

_Instead._

_--_

He obeyed his master.

Leaving a being so frigid on the outside, so pathetic, lonely, and deprived on the inside.

He left him sitting upon the branch, asking a mind that had no answer, asking

_Why did he take her?_

_What is he doing?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

* * *

Reflections often illustrate the cruellest pictures, to view in full glory as a truth that is best left unsaid.

Her own, labeled innocent and beautiful and all of the above, existed as a paradox. Lies.

What innocence?

_I'm a lie._

Raising her hands from their clutching convulsions at the sides of the ivory basin, she spread her fingers apart and stared at them with unnaturally cold eyes. Shaking. Those tendons that made her fingers were not strong, they never would be, and adorned even in those black gloves, she could see how little her hands were.

Few times, there had been, when he had taken her delicate hand in his. Needy. Grasping. Touch.

Here she was, standing at his brother's side and still, there was nothing she could do about it.

Shaking her head, she whispered. "No. This isn't for him. This is for the child."

"Your motives do not sound clear, girl."

Stiffening, Sakura raised her eyes to the mirror and remained unnaturally rigid as he loomed over her, watching her through desolate, black tunnels.

"Itachi."

"You."

He never used her name.

"I still find it fairly amusing that you hope to accomplish anything by coming along with me."

"I don't want–"

"Yes, the child, I have heard."

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as his hand carefully rested on her shoulder, his gesture too gentle, too unexpected, too-

"AUUGH!"

Clinging to slippery porcelain with painted fingernails, she was unable to suppress her cry of pain as his hand passed across the back of her neck. A dull sound echoed off the tiles of the ebony-tiled floor.

Running his fingers through her hair, he grasped the back of her skull with powerful fingers and without hesitation, slammed her face into the shallow ivory basin. Blood spurting across the mirror.

Her hated reflection.

"Don't hope," he hissed, lowering his lips to her ear, listening to her struggle to catch her stolen breath, watching, with satisfaction, the crimson streaked across the once untainted sink. "I will never love you."

"Oh, I know," she replied in similar fashion. Seething, blinking tears from her now bloodshot eyes.

Slamming her porcelain, tear-stained face against it again. Listening to her nose break.

"But...dear girl...will you ever love Sasuke again?"

Swallowing, she surveyed his looming profile, almost a flickering shadow, in the mirror.

Her answer was brittle and muffled through the swollen mess that was her face.

"Never."

* * *

He knew they were talking about him.

He could see them huddled in a corner booth, under one dim light and sitting upon weak-springed cushionswith their heads together in a way that illustrated, quite clearly, the severity. The importance.

They knew he was coming, and sprang away from each other in a fierce panic, the damage already done but perhaps not solidified in such a way that Sasuke would remember it.

He could recall memories as vivid as a movie. Chances were, he would remember this too.

Eyes, three pairs, stared him down as his boots echoed ominously across the dusty floor, soaked with sake, piss and other assorted bodily fluids that were supposed to be cleaned after hours. Again, chances were the cleaning maid was having sweet nothings whispered in her ear by a drunken mess with a wife and three children at home, was being groped in a dark closet or a dark room in the very inn that secured her profession.

Karin was easily distracted; Sasuke was shirtless.

"Sasuke–kun!" she exclaimed, only a hint of guilt in her expression and demeanor; her possessive fangirl personality kicked into overdrive. "Sit down, are you all right, you want a–"

"So even a girl that licks my boots has the gall to talk behind my back?" he inquired, his tone silky, minacious. Undoubtedly dangerous. "Move."

Karin adopted an expression appropriate of one that had just been smacked across the face with a saucepan, but had the sense to edge away from him and granted him room to sit in the corner.

"Look, ah," Suigetsu began, leaning closer to Sasuke with the intent of keeping the conversation quiet; Sasuke glared at him. There was no conversation. Juugo stared Suigetsu down, until he desisted, huffing.

"My personal life is _none_ of your concern." Keeping his eyes upon the table in front of him, he clenched his jaw slightly in the dim, flickering light emanating from the simple chandelier above. "And it will remain so. You all have a job to do. That is the reason I brought you together."

Each teammate raised his (or her) head to meet his eyes, and tense seconds passed as he stared into each in turn.

Slowly, they nodded with newfound resolve.

Oh, and then it was broken, the silence that would have ended the night on a semi peaceful note, shattered.

"WHAT D'YA _MEAN _THERE'S NO ROOMS LEFT? WE'VE BEEN TRAVELING FOR HOURS!"

Sasuke rose his head.

Companions fell away as they locked eyes on each other. Across an empty room with little light to fall upon the less than dramatic, unexpected reunion.

Obsidian. Cerulean.

Wide with impalpable emotions.

And of all the memories that played before his eyes, Sasuke remembered a vivid one that made him shake, made him want to tear that former teammate, that could-have-been-friend, apart.

"_Protect her when I can't, Naruto..."_

Failure. His one request, unfulfilled.

"_Promise me."_

"You failed."

* * *


End file.
